My mother-in-law told me to get up at 4 a.m. to cook Thanksgiving dinner for her 30 guests. My husband added, “This time, remember to make everything really perfect!” I smiled and replied, “Of course.” At 3 a.m., I took my suitcase to the airport. – usnews 0/2

On the counter next to his mother’s guest list sat a folded piece of paper with his name on it in Isabella’s handwriting.

Even as he unfolded it, some part of his brain refused to accept what he was reading.

“Hudson, something came up and I had to leave town. You’ll need to handle Thanksgiving dinner. The groceries are in the fridge. Isabella.”

He read it three times before the words began to make sense.

She was gone. Isabella, his wife, who had never missed a family obligation, who had never failed to deliver a perfect meal, who had never left him to handle anything domestic, was gone.

His first thought was that someone must have died—a family emergency that had required her immediate departure. He grabbed his phone and called her. It went straight to voicemail.

“Bella, I found your note. What happened? Whose emergency? Call me back immediately. People are going to start arriving in six hours and I need to know when you’ll be back.”